Give Unto Me
by Sea Rhapsody
Summary: Dawn. Elizabeth. Two names. One person running from the darkness of a past she will never escape. Running for her life, and for the very survival of her world. Can the legendary Van Helsing save her from the dark? Or will she be consumed forever? VanOC
1. Chapter 1: Nightmares

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy or Van Helsing. Thank you, anyway. _

_Note: I'm starting a new story for VH, as you all can see. That also means the other is going on pause. Thank you for reading!_

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**Chapter 1: Nightmares**

Bounce.

I was bored.

Bounce. Bounce.

I was very bored.

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

I was about ready to eat the ball.

Being the brilliant planner that I was, I'd somehow managed to run out the door without any of my things—homework and otherwise—before coming to baby-sit the three little terrors. I shuddered. At least they were asleep now… Not that I didn't love them, I really did. It's just that, with all of the hanging, and the jumping, and the yelling, it got really, really tiring. So tiring that I sometimes forgot just _how_ much I loved them.

I sighed, bouncing the little rubber ball again. I'd be here until the early hours of the morning, at least. I can only thank the gods that it's break, and not just the weekend. I can sleep away the day tomorrow… instead of freaking out about homework.

I had already raided their movie pile, but of course I couldn't find anything _there._ I didn't speak Italian. Or understand to it. My only hope was that… I sat bolt upright. No! There was no way in hell I wanted _that_ to happen! I bit my lip, shaking my head. How foolish! Then the doorbell rang, and I jumped. That really was more of a coincidence than I was comfortable with. I felt torn between cheering and ripping my own heart out.

Tiptoeing over to the front door, I crossed my fingers; maybe it would be my mom with some of my stuff. As much as it would be exiting—and a fine way to end my boredom—meeting new people had never been my thing. Making sure that the bolt-chain was firmly in place, I raised myself onto the balls of my feet, trying to see through the little window on the door. Then I quickly shrank back down, blushing. The man outside was _cute_. And he so didn't look like the boys. Or their parents.

Swallowing thickly, I looked again. The man was smirking as he tipped his hat; he'd obviously seen me. Sighing I finally opened the door a crack. Anna would never forgive me if I left her cousin outside half the night.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

The man looked a cross between shocked, amused and annoyed. The annoyance seemed to quickly win. "Do you usually open the door to strangers?" Gods above, his voice was amazing. Just like his shoulder length wavy brown hair.

I smiled impishly up at him, falling into my usual cocky charade. At least he wouldn't see how nervous I was. "No. But Anna told me you might be coming. You are Gabriel, right?" He had to be. He just _had_ to be. Otherwise…

"Yes. Don't worry."

I let out a breath in relief. "Oh, good…" I quickly closed the door, unlatching the chain. When I opened it again, it was all the way and I stepped aside to allow him to enter. Goddess knows I wouldn't actually tell him to come in. The dreams came too often for that. "I'm Elizabeth."

He was smiling good-naturedly now, although his hazel eyes still seemed annoyed. Or was it a little angry. I shivered slightly; he felt like a predator, and that look in his eyes, the intensity of it… But, strangely enough, he didn't feel like he was dangerous to _me_. "How do you know I'm telling the truth? I could be a murderer, for all you know."

"You could be. But I know you're not." Not unless he didn't come over the threshold, that is. As much as I'd learned to trust my instincts, I had been wrong before.

"Oh?"

"Well, if I add up the facts…" I started ticking off on my fingers. "One, I was told you were coming. And what's the probability that you would actually be someone else on the one day you were supposed to be coming, especially when I've never had anyone else drop by unexpectedly in my years of baby-sitting for this family? Very low, I'll tell you that!"

Two, a murderer wouldn't call attention to the fact that he is one; that would be just plain stupid! And the fact that you did mention the possibility would mean you might be worried about something happening… maybe to the boys?"

I started pacing, my heart thumbing in my chest. I couldn't believe I was actually running on like this. In front of a stranger, no less! But now that I had started, I couldn't stop.

"Three, if you _were_ a murderer, what would be the probability that we would actually be having this conversation? Close to none; you'd probably have killed me already. Psychologically, if you _were_ some kind of criminal, you would have to be crazy to just come up to the front door like this, and then to hold an actual conversation with me… you don't seem mad to me."

"However," I was on a role now. "I suppose you _could_ be mad, and I just can't tell. You know, you could be one of those completely cunning, sneaky little bastards. But there's more evidence pointing to the fact that you are who you said you are!" Or he could be… special. After all, he hadn't crossed the threshold yet. I always had to take that into consideration. Not that I could tell him that.

I finally stopped pacing, and looked up at him. One of his perfect brown eyebrows was raised. "Oh? Is that all?" He seemed amused. I scowled for a moment, before my eyes widened and I blushed, looking away.

"Well, you just don't _feel_ bad to me…" I mumbled. I gave him an uncertain smile. "Sorry about that. I guess you can say that's what the IB does to you. Always needing to analyze everything…" I grimaced, chest aching as I turned and made my way back to the kitchen. Only less than five minutes and I'd already made a fool of myself. "Could you close the door behind you?"

I paused just outside the kitchen until I heard the click of the door. "I really am Gabriel Van Helsing." I could hear laughter in his voice. But somehow I knew he wasn't laughing _at_ me.

"I know." I gave him what I hoped could pass as a confidant smile as I leaned against the doorjamb, craving the support. "I wouldn't have let you in if I didn't. Would you like anything? Anna wanted me to tell you that they have green-tea."

He sighed, placing his hat down on the hall table. "Thank you. That would be wonderful."

I approached him, slightly wary. I couldn't forget that I didn't know this man. I couldn't afford to. "I'll put your coat away, if you'd like."

There was no way I could have missed the dim panic in the widening of his eyes. "No. That's all right. I'll do it myself." Something wasn't right. I frowned and pretended to turn back to the kitchen, but I kept an eye on the man. I pressed my lips together when I saw the sharp glint of silver strapped to the inside of his long leather coat. What was he doing with a silver knife?

"I'll start the tea then. Unless you want to do it." I couldn't help throwing him a challenging glance. He only smiled sheepishly over his shoulder from his place at the closet.

I'd already put the water on to boil when the man—Gabriel, I reminded myself—finally stepped into the kitchen. I gave him a quick once-over for hints of hidden weapons, trying to ignore the way his grey sweater clung to his strong shoulders. "Are the kids asleep?" He sat at the table, looking over the colorful papers that littered it with interest.

I nodded and sat across from him, trying not to fidget. "Yep. But John sometimes comes back down. Nightmares." I blushed when he showed me a neon orange sheet sketched with the image of a scantly clad, black skinned woman with horns, his eyebrows raised. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered the twisted, malevolent sneer I had drawn for her. "I was trying to entertain the kids. They were being more rowdy than usual."

"So you drew them this?"

I shook my head emphatically. "No. No, no, no, no. Of course not! They were the ones drawing." Maybe he would drop it. I so didn't want to talk about this right now. Not when I was alone, in someone else's house, with a stranger.

"So one of _them_ drew this?"

"No." I ducked my head, and I could feel my heart beginning to race, my face burning as everything else went cold. I knew I should have put it away when I was finished. "That came later."

Gabriel shifted back in his seat, crossing his ankle over his knee as he raised the paper up to eyelevel, cocking his head to the side. I could all but imagine his eyes tracing over the long, curving lines of the woman's—no, creature's—abnormally long limbs, and the great smooth mass of its hair. As I sat, stiff and staring, I remembered the twisted smirk, the blood red claws that showed black in my sketch and glowing orange eyes. I watched as it slowly slipped towards me, raising overly thin claws to my face… "How did you come up with this?"

I was jolted out of my daydream, and I dully looked up at him. He was still staring intently at the drawing. "Sometimes I find myself drawing my nightmares." The kettle started whistling lowly, but I didn't move.

He lowered the paper, frowning when he saw me. I knew what I looked like in the grip of terror; pale lips, white skin, eyes wide and glazed over. Like I was going into shock. That was why I was always so careful. But I couldn't be on guard _all_ the time. And when it's dark and I'm alone… "Are you alright?" I started to breathe shallowly, and fast. He was around the table in an instant. "Hey."

The kettle's shrieking rose to a fever pitch, so like the shriek of the beast, and I clamped my hands around the edge of the table, hunching forward. I heard Gabriel curse, as if from a distance, but the only thing that mattered was the rising screams. The shrieking laughter. My knuckles turned white, then I couldn't take it anymore and my hands rose to smother my ears as I curled into myself. It had to stop! I needed it to stop. "Stop. Make it stop!" Gabriel cursed again, leaping to his feet to shove the kettle off the heat.

Then he was kneeling beside me, and his presence encompassed me. It was a presence so powerful it was tangible, and finally I felt safe. Not even the dying screams, their message clear, could penetrate it. _I'll find you again… I promise._ But I already knew that.

Weak with relief, I slid off the chair and Gabriel moved to support me. "Hey." Reeling from the sudden change, I just slumped against him, trembling. "Elizabeth?" When I didn't answer he shifted me in his arms, cradling me against his chest. A part of me reveled in the feeling of his strong arms around me. A part of me screamed against him. Carefully rising, he sat me on the edge of the table. "Hey. It's alright. What ever it was, it's gone now."

I still clung to him, savoring the feeling of safety that all but radiated from his strong form. My hands plucked weakly at his sweater, completely drained. Then I couldn't hold it anymore, and I cried.

I cried for the painful pounding of my heart. I cried for the shame of being brought to my knees before a stranger. I cried for the return of my waking nightmares. But more than anything else, I cried for the knowledge that I would _never_ be free.

And I cried for the sake of crying.

Forcing myself to calm, I slid away from him and off the table, wobbling only slightly. When he reached out to steady me I pushed him away. I hated myself for letting him see what it was that I went through almost every day. What I struggled against. Something that I never even let my own family see. Something that they hadn't _wanted_ to see…

I stumbled over to the sink and rinsed my face, erasing all traces of tears. If John came down, I didn't want to frighten him. Then I stood still for a moment, my back carefully to Gabriel. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

I could feel his eyes boring into my back. Then, quietly, "It's alright to cry."

I shook my head. "No. I don't know you."

"Either way, there is no shame in feeling fear." That was almost a growl. I whirled around and looked him in the eye, defiant. What I saw there made me catch my breath. There was frustration there, and suspicion. My withdrawal had annoyed him… did he _want_ to help me? Then I realized what he had not said. _But that was more than just fear._ How much did he know, could he guess? I thought back to the silver knife. Maybe he knew more than I wanted to think.

But was he dangerous to me? He felt so… safe, and I had long ago learned to trust my instincts, but… I also knew how easy it was for some to deceive. Could I afford to take such a risk?

The uncertainty must have shown clear in my eyes, because his own softened. "Do not fear me. I won't hurt you." He took a step towards me, and I took a step back. He sighed, putting his hands up. He wouldn't touch me. "I can help you… whatever's going on, you don't need to handle it alone."

I stubbornly turned away.

He took another stop towards me, but this time I stood my ground. Striding quickly over to my side, he stopped behind me. Slowly raising a hand to my shoulder, he paused, trying to gauge my reaction. When I didn't pull away, he gently turned me to face him. The kindness in his eyes made me want to cry again. "You can trust me. Let me help you."

"Why?"

"Because the boys like you." That hurt. I didn't know why, but it did. "And I don't like to see anyone suffer if I can help it."

I laughed wetly. "A hero complex." The idea filled me with despair, to such a degree I had not felt in so long. I clenched my jaw so hard it ached, a tear clinging to my eyelashes. Then my body was wracked by a harsh sob, and he pulled me back into his arms. And again I felt safe.

For a few, blessed moments I was at peace, wrapped up in him. Allowed to cry. That ended when the sound of small footsteps rushed down the stairs. I tore myself away from him, hastily drying my eyes and pasting a bright smile in place. And not a moment too soon. John came slinking into the room, rubbing his eyes.

"Elizabeth?"

"Another nightmare, John?" I went to kneel beside him, gathering him into my arms as I pushed all of my pain back and put all of my own fear under wraps. This boy did _not_ need to see _me_ afraid.

Me, his protector.

I rocked him slowly, running a gentle hand through his hair. It had always soothed me as a child. I could feel Gabriel's eyes on me. I had to fight to not turn and stare back; John was more important right now. I pushed Gabriel completely from my mind. "Oh, John, you know they can't hurt you… what did you see?"

"It was the dragons again…" He buried his head in my shoulder, trying to block out the images that I knew would still haunt him. When he continued his voice was muffled by my shirt. "They came in and ate me. But first they ate you, and Billy, and Ben. And there was blood everywhere!"

I pulled him closer when I felt his small body shudder. I was honestly starting to get worried now; he'd had that dream so many times that they had to mean something. I just didn't know what. "Listen to me John. You're safe here. No dragons are going to come, no dragons are going to hurt you." I tiled his head up, giving him a kind smile. "Didn't you know that some cultures see the dragon as a beast of safety, and luck? The dragon would protect you, not hurt you. And even if a bad dragon _did_ come, _I_ would protect you."

John only nodded miserably, his head still resting against my chest. "But the dragon hurt you, too."

"You should know by now that I am not so easily brought down!" I jostled him, making him giggle, his mouth twisting into a miserable smile. I stroked his dirty blond hair again. "You think you can go back to sleep now, Johnny?"

He nodded again, but still clung to me, his arms tight now around my neck. "Sing me a song, Elizabeth? Please?"

"Alright." I laughed, and got to my feet, my arms secure around him. A part of me felt Gabriel follow us up the stairs, but the rest ignored him. After I had settled the child back in bed, I sat beside him. "What should I sing?"

"That song you sang me that last time." John sat up, reaching for me. "You know, the 'give' one."

I lay him back down, and stroked his hair. He needed the contact. "The 'give' one?" He nodded emphatically. I thought for a moment. "Do you mean Give Unto Me?"

He shrugged, and hummed a few lines. "That one."

"Give Unto Me." I nodded, and laughed. "I'm surprised you liked it."

He shrugged again, blushing. "I do. It's nice. Pretty. And it talks about nightmares going away." Then he slid his small hand into mine, and I gave it a comforting squeeze, echoing the pain in my heart. The poor boy… this was why I had to be so strong. For him, if for no one else. But he was looking up at me expectedly, so, taking a deep breath, I sang.

"I've been watching you from a distance

The distance sees through your disguise

All I want from you is your hurting

I want to heal you

I want to save you from the dark

Give unto me your troubles

I'll endure your suffering

Place onto me your burden

I'll drink your deadly poison

Why should I care if they hurt you

Somehow it matters more to me

Than if I were hurting myself

Save you

I'll save you

Give unto me your troubles

I'll endure your suffering

Place onto me your burden

I'll drink your deadly poison

Fear not the flame of my love's candle

Let it be the sun in your world of darkness

Give unto me all that frightens you

I'll have your nightmares for you

If you sleep soundly

Give unto me your troubles

I'll endure your suffering

Place onto me your burden

I'll drink your deadly poison

Fear not the flame of my love's candle

Let it be the sun in your world of darkness

Give unto me all that frightens you

I'll have your nightmares for you

If you sleep soundly

Fear not the flame of my love's candle

Let it be the sun in your world of darkness"

I looked down to see John fast asleep. A tender smile curving my lips, I brushed his hair from his forehead and kissed him softly. "Night, Sweet Boy. May fair dreams be your fair pillow."

"Quoting Shakespeare?" I jumped, whirling around. Gabriel was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a strange look in his eyes. I had completely forgotten he was there.

I brushed past him, putting a finger to my lips. Understanding me, he followed me silently back down the stairs. "Thank you. I didn't want him to wake up again."

He regarded me silently for a moment, the strange light still in his eyes. Then, "You're good with him."

I smiled absently, rubbing my arm as I stared out the window. I didn't turn back to look at him. "I like kids. And he's wonderful, really."

"Still."

"Mm." I continued working at my arm, hissing softly when I hit a particularly soar spot.

He was behind me in a second. "Does your arm hurt?"

"Hm?" I looked up at him, my hand stilling.

"Your arm."

I self-consciously lowered my hand, fisting it behind my back. "No. It's fine. It just acts up sometimes, is all."

He frowned. "What happened?"

"Don't really know. It's been like this almost as long as I can remember. I don't think I've ever actually hurt myself. Or at least I don't remember doing it…"

He gently took my arm and rolled the sleeve up. He ran the fingers of his other hand lightly over the bare skin. I shivered. It felt… good, and strange. "Do you think you were born with it, then?" It didn't completely register, his question. I was too busy staring at his clever hands with fascination. He was pressing into what seemed like random points of my arm. And it was helping! "Elizabeth?"

This time my head jerked up. "Huh? What?""

He was looking at me with mild amusement. "Were you born like this?"

"Oh. No, I don't think so." He raised an eyebrow in question. Alright then, might as well… "I just woke up like this one day. Never figured out what happened."

I shrugged nonchalantly. I wasn't about to tell him that I still remembered the nightmare I had had that night. The black demon lady had cornered me in a dead-end. Then she crushed my arm when I tried to escape. I'd woken up shortly after, a deep pain twitching in my arm. I'd been glad; I still shudder to think what may have happened next.

His hands stilled over my arm, but didn't relinquish his hold. I stared at him curiously, wonder what he was doing now. "Better?" His voice was soft, and I only nodded, not wanting to break the silent spell that had fallen over us. The safety.

"What was that?"

"Pressure points." He saw the Goosebumps starting on my arm—I got cold easily—and rolled my sleeve back down. Then he dropped my arm. I instantly missed his warmth, and seriously contemplated gabbing his hand—

No.

He was how many years older than me? No. I may already be a legal adult—just barely—but I was still in school, and what interest could I possibly hold for him anyway? He was just being kind. Because the boys liked me. I inwardly shook my head; I was best to cut thoughts like that in the bud. It could do me no good to pine after a man almost ten years older than me… at least. So no touching!

But I could still look.

And imagine.

I peeked up at him, blushing slightly. "Thank you." Then I sighed, and sat down at the table again, pulling one of the sheets of paper in front of me, shoving the rest into a pile even as I started sketching. The moment was so thoroughly over. "If you would like the tea, then go ahead. I'm sure you know where the cups are."

He nodded, and only moments later he was sitting across from me with a steaming mug caged between his large hands. He tilted his head, trying to make sense of the upside down sketch. Silently I turned it around to face him, then started sketching again. It didn't matter which direction I drew in; I was, after all, just developing my latest Art project.

"What are you doing?" Gabriel obviously didn't feel the tension that I did.

Or the sheer exhaustion.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes tiredly. The combination of my earlier emotional breakdown—which I still hadn't forgiven myself for, by the way—and the late hour all but had my head spinning. "Homework." I knew I was being short with him, but I just didn't care anymore. I had too much to think about right now, what with the nightmares and all. And spilling my guts to a stranger.

I'd apologize in the morning.

"For what?"

"Art."

Gabriel fell silent then; he must have sensed my sudden hostility. I bent my head down to the paper, forcing my concentration. I ignored him.

I'd just deal with everything in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2: A Ride to Remember

**Chapter 2: A Ride to Remember **

"Seriously, Elizabeth. You need to get a boyfriend." I purposefully ignored my annoyingly persistent best friend, who was at this moment in time skipping backwards in front of me. I was watching her feet. It was an agreement we had; if one of us was doing something stupid, the other had to spot for her. "You study too hard. You need a life!"

"But, don't you remember?" She tripped, and my hand shot out to steady her. She nodded to me in thanks. "When you're in the IB, you have to choose between sleep, good grades and a life. You can't have all three. I choose sleep and good grades."

We came to a bench—they were scattered all through the extensive grounds of the school—and I sighed, swinging my bag and laptop off my shoulder, dumping it next to the pretty wrought iron seat. Then I flopped down onto the cold of the bench. "Not that I get enough sleep, either way. You know how it is, Steph."

She stared down at me, a sympathetic gleam in her eyes. Then she sat as well, sliding an arm around my shoulders. "The Nightmares're back, aren't they?"

It wasn't really a question.

I nodded anyway, and rubbed my face. I felt grey. "They started a few nights ago." I hadn't told her of my neighbors' friendly guest. I wasn't planning to, just yet. I needed to work that out for _myself_ first.

"Are they still about—"

"The Demon Woman? Yes."

She sighed, then shook her head like a wet dog. A lot of what she did ended up somewhat dog-like. Then she was smiling again. "Anyway! All the more reason for you to get a boyfriend. If you've got enough time for extra classes during _break_, then you've got enough time for a boyfriend. And it would be better for your health, especially if you're not sleeping."

I laughed. It was just like her to turn something like this to her own advantage. "Ah, Steph… You're just too much sometimes."

But she wasn't listening. Actually, she was staring off into the distance, slack-jawed. I looked around, trying to find what had caught her attention. My eyes widened.

It was Gabriel!

The man was wandering, relaxed, down the path towards us, and my breathe caught at the way his grey sweater clung to him—did he wear nothing but grey?— and his black trench coat swayed behind. Even here, _in school_, he exuded power. Then it hit me; what was he doing in my school?

I watched as his clever eyes scanned the area around him, searching the shadows of the woods just as easily as the brightness of the open ground. My own eyes widened. He was looking for someone! Was he… Me? But… No…. That's just… No. But the boys don't go here. No. It must be a coincidence.

It had to be.

If I was completely honest with myself, I didn't want it to be.

"Wow…"

I shook my head, composing myself, before turning back to regard my friend. Stephanie was staring, wide-eyed, at Gabriel, who was blissfully unaware of the effect he was having. I pressed my lips together, fighting a smile.

"Steph, you're drooling."

Her eyes snapped back to me, and she spluttered. "But, but he's _cute!_ How can you not think he's cute?" She roughly turned me to face Gabriel again, pointing past my shoulder at him. "That man is _hot_! What do think he's looking for? I've never seen him here before."

I laughed in delight, but quickly quieted when I saw him looking over at us. He must have heard Stephanie's squealing. I blushed and waved slightly when he smiled warmly, starting towards us. "Stephanie… shut up."

"Elizabeth! He's looking for you?" Stephanie turned shocked eyes on me. "Who is he? How do you know him?" The she squealed again. "You lucky girl!"

I groaned. "Stephanie…"

"C'mon! Tell all!"

I couldn't help laughing again as I extracted myself from her clinging form. "Calm down, Steph! I'll tell you." She quickly settled, staring at me expectantly. Then she started bouncing again. "Steph!"

"Alright, sorry! Just get on with it!"

"He's just staying with my next door neighbors, is all. I met him while I was babysitting their kids."

"Aw… that's too boring." Stephanie perked up again, though. "Oh well! It's still workable."

I never had a chance to answer.

"Elizabeth." Gabriel tipped his hat at me, then turned to my friend. "And who is this?"

I fought to keep myself from melting at the way he said my name. Instead, primly, "Hats off, Gabriel, when on school grounds."

Gabriel chuckled lowly, slipping his hat off, and Stephanie elbowed me in the ribs. "I'm Stephanie. _Very_ pleased to meet you."

"I'm sure." I muttered, snickering. Stephanie elbowed me again. "Hey! Ow. Stephanie…" I whined, rubbing my side as I glared at her balefully.

Gabriel coughed, hiding a smile.

I shot a glare at him next. "I saw that, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Lurking. What're you doing in my school? I know the boys don't come here."

Stephanie heaved a despairing sigh, and shook her head. Gabriel just held up his hands in surrender, smirking. "I heard from Anna that you're set to walk home today. I thought I'd pick you up instead."

My eyes widened in surprise; no one had ever done something like that for me before. "Oh. Um…" Uncertain, I turned to Stephanie; she just urged me on, smiling broadly. "Th…thank you."

His smirk softened into a kind smile. "It's my pleasure."

My eyes widened even further, if that was possible, when he offered me his arm. Blushing demurely, and determinately _not_ looking in Stephanie's direction—I knew just what _she_ would be doing—I let him loop my arm through his. I continued not looking at her as Gabriel lead me away, but that didn't stop my wince when she called out after us.

"Have fun, kiddies! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

I was going to kill her. Scratch that, judging by Gabriel's raised eyebrow and small smirk I was going to have to do far more than that. Torture and maim, maybe. Yes, make her suffer for my suffering. Of course I couldn't actually do that, so I had to settle for nervous laughter and a tight smile.

"Just an inside joke, Mr. Van Helsing. That's just Stephanie, in a nutshell." Then, louder, just because I couldn't resist, "Of course that's not saying very much is it, hmmm? What do you say to _that,_ Steph?"

She just laughed.

She continued to laugh until we had left hearing distance. And maybe even after that as well. I wouldn't put it past her. Actually, she had started sounding somewhat hysterical, so I wouldn't be surprised if she had continued to laugh for quite some time afterwards. That was one things she was prone to doing, laughing hysterically; it was probably one of the reasons I liked her so much. There's nothing better, or more refreshing, than laughing, just for the sake of laughing, until the early hours of the morning. Of course, that would always eventually end with Stephanie trying to scratch behind her ear with her foot—something she'd been trying to do for ages—and falling off the couch. But that's an entirely different story.

"Is she alright?" Gabriel's voice brought me back to the present.

"Hmm?" I look up at him, expecting some sort of elaboration, but all he did was cock his head back in Stephanie's direction. It took me several seconds to realize just what he was talking about. "Stephanie. Right. She's perfectly fine. In fact, I would be worried if she _wasn't_ laughing."

"She's the fun-loving type, then?"

"Oh, yes! I'd almost swear that she manages to get high off air. If she's not bouncing, laughing, or doing something utterly and completely stupid, then I'd say she must be sick."

I looked ahead again, feeling almost awkward. He was silent for a while, but I could feel him watching me. I found myself feeling like a specimen under a microscope. Perhaps like a puzzle he wanted to complete.

I wasn't sure if I liked the feeling.

"I hope you're alright with motorcycles."

I looked up at him sharply, frowning. "What?"

"Motorcycles."

"Motorcycles?"

He outright laughed this time. I couldn't help but scowl despite the shiver of pleasure that worked its way down my spine. "Yes, motorcycles." He stopped suddenly, and it was barely able to avoid bumping into him. Then, smirking, he gestured to a shinning, sleek, black _trap of death._ Otherwise known as a _motorcycle. _"Motorcycles."

"Ah." A weak, nervous laugh as my bags slid off my shoulders. "_Motorcycles_. Lovely."

He tossed me a simple black helmet, putting one on himself after strapping my bags to the back of the bike. He turned to look at me expectantly, when I didn't move. "Not scared, are you?"

"Scared? No, of course not. _Why _would I possibly be scared? It's just a motorcycle. Just a _metal instrument of death, destruction and the killing of kittens!"_

My mini-tirade wound down into frantic muttering, as I clutched the helmet between white-knuckled hands. I think my eye may have twitched. He just stared at me. Then he burst out laughing. I couldn't help but shiver again; his laugh really was bad for the health—like dark chocolate. Still laughing he grabbed the helmet from my numb fingers, shoved it down over my head, and swung me bodily onto the leather seat. He left his too-big hands on my too-small shoulders, as if to hold me there. I shuddered. And it _wasn't_ from fear.

"The killing of kittens?" His eyebrow was arched, the bastard. He was _so_ teasing me! Well, I'm glad I could be of some amusement.

I crossed my arms, nose up in the air. "So I like kittens. Sue me."

Obviously I didn't strike a very imposing figure, because all I got for that little remark was an amused snort. I guess my splayed-kneed and awkward balance on the unfamiliar seat of the bike dashed any hope of me being taken seriously.

Oh, who was I kidding? _I_ couldn't even take myself seriously.

Or at least not right now. I'd probably be taking myself very seriously later. Tonight… There's not much good humor in terror. My arms slowly uncrossed, as if of their own accord, and wound around my waist. I felt suddenly nauseas. What would _She_ do to me tonight? Would She shown me that blonde woman's death again? Her swan dive from the tower? Red hair bleeding black, then destruction? Or would it be something more personal, like the time She had me cornered, Her claws buried in my gut?

I must have paled, though, or he must have sensed my flagging mood, because only a moment later I could feel Gabriel's hands briskly rubbing up and down my arms. He must have thought I was going into shock again. Either way, it served to pull me from my darkening thoughts.

"It's alright, you know. I won't let anything happen to you." He smiled kindly, gently readjusting the helmet on my head. "I know what I'm doing."

He then proceeded to gently nudge my knees into a better position, and after smoothly mounting the bike in front of me, drew my arms around his hard waist. I didn't like the way he had started treating me like glass, though I did appreciate it. He must have thought me so weak; something to be taken care of. I didn't want to be a burden again. The words 'Dawn Watch' echoed in my mind. I shook my head; I didn't want to remember these memories that weren't mine. Not right now. Not with him right there. I'd embarrassed myself enough for one life-time, thank you very much. It was time for damage control. Put on a brave face, and all that; or as much of one as I can manage.

He'd started the motorcycle and peeled out of the space before I'd realized it.

"Gabriel!" I squeaked, tightening my arms around his waist, and hid my head against his back. I didn't want to see the ground passing underneath us. He just laughed again. He really was laughing a lot, wasn't he? But I couldn't say I was complaining.

The next ten minutes passed in a blur. Literally _and_ figuratively. I was too busy trying to ignore the feeling of the wind buffeting my body to really watch where we were going. That was why, when we reached the usual intersection, I almost forgot to tell him to go the _other_ way.

"Gabriel! _Gabriel!_ The other way! Go the _other _way! _Right!_ Go _right!_ Not left, _right!_"

"_What_?" He looked around at me, frowning. I hit him on the shoulder.

"Eyes on the road!" I muttered tightly. "And go right."

I sighed in relief when he faced forward again, and swerved smoothly to the right. He was silent for a few moments, but I could almost feel his frown. "Why?"

"Yeah, that road you were going to go down? It may be the quickest way back, but every _single_ time I've gone that way something bad, and/or weird has happened. Call me superstitious, but I prefer _not_ to, now."

"Alright. Fair enough."

The rest of the ride passed far too quickly, I thought. I was starting to enjoy the sensation of the wind flowing through my hair, and I most defiantly enjoyed the feeling of his stomach muscles rippling under my palms. The speed was starting to get to me too. I wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry… he was turning me into an adrenaline junkie. And it only took one motorcycle ride!

But then we were home, and he was lifting me off the bike, handling me as if I were a porcelain doll. I decided that I kind of liked the feeling. Just a little bit. Not that I would ever admit it.

Suddenly shy, I looked away from him. "Thanks. I really appreciate this. You can't know how much…"

I heard him sigh before I felt a hand settle on my shoulder and another lift my chin. "It's alright. Really. I don't mind at all. If there's anything you need, anything at all, all you need to do is ask. I can _help_ you, if you'll let me."

I wanted to hug him. Honestly, I'd missed this feeling… I'd missed the comfort. And he was being so comforting right then. I wanted to touch him, hold him, but all I did was smile. Then quietly, almost reverently, I said the only thing I could.

"Thank you."

For moment, the silence was thick; I could feel the two barely uttered words sink into the air around us. Desperate to break the silence and put _that_ little scene behind us I spoke up again, only louder this time. "Anyway. I should probably go now… Do you think you could take my bags inside with you when you go in? I usually leave them with Anna for a few hours; I'll come back for them later."

Gabriel frowned, but nodded. "Where are you going?"

"There's a park, a few minutes walk away. I usually go there after school. So I'll see you then?"

"Yes."

Then I turned, walked back through the gate onto the road, and I could feel his eyes on my back. I had the feeling that I had just revealed another piece of a puzzle. I couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing, but I knew that eventually I'd find out.

I only hoped it wouldn't be too late.


	3. Chapter 3: Don't Blink

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy or Van Helsing. Thank you, anyway._

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**Chapter 3: Don't Blink**

I woke to silence, feeling as if my heart would jump out of my chest. I looked wildly around my room, taking account of everything, checking to see if anything had changed. Nothing had. I'd relaxed only slightly before realizing what it was that was bothering me so much; there'd been no nightmare that night. Somehow, oddly enough, this made me feel worse, not better. If there had been no nightmare to wake me up, then something else had to have done it. And I was _terrified_.

"Something's coming."

The whispered words hung heavily in the air; I wasn't even completely sure if they were mine. I shivered. There was something in the current of the air, something almost… I don't know. A kind of static. The power of it was tangible, and almost obviously malicious, and I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep—at least until I proved to myself that nothing _was_ there.

Why did this always happen to me?

Throwing back my covers, I slowly settled my feet to the floor. I shivered again, for the cold. And it was so cold. Going to my closet I pulled out an old pair of sweats—they were comfortable, and more importantly easy to move in—and a tunic like sweater. The shirt was just right for hiding my silver knife. There was no way I was going _anywhere_ without it tonight.

Padding out of my room and down the stairs, I tried to ignore the echoing silence. I grabbed a bag, slipping a flashlight, cell phone, and my bunch of keys into it; at the very least I would be prepared. Then I slipped out through the front door, like a shadow. I stifled a wry chuckle. Oh, the irony…

I felt like a shadow, though, as I paced down the dark street. I barely disturbed the silence, and I hadn't bothered turning on the flashlight. It was as if I wasn't even really there. I was just an illusion, maybe a memory. I _felt_ like a ghost. I _felt_ haunted.

It wasn't a very good feeling at all, but I couldn't shake it.

I continued down the road, tensing slightly at every small sound. A low howling turned out to be an owl. The snap of a twig brought me face to face with a wide-eyed fox. The wind was chasing the leaves across the tops of the trees; that was the peculiar rustling sound. Finally I made it to the end of the road, but I hesitated. I wasn't sure if I wanted to make the turn. Looking behind me into the gaping darkness, I decided it might be the better idea. I did my level best to ignore the way the air seemed to charge as I moved forward, the power building. I would be doing myself no favors by freaking out.

I turned the corner, and stopped dead. My heart seemed to stop with me. There, at the end of the road, I could swear that the shadows got thicker, darker. I thought that, perhaps, if I were to continue, I would feel them caressing my skin. Moving forward so slowly, _so_ _cautiously_, one step at a time, I gradually slid my hand into my bag and pulled out the flashlight. I didn't turn it on.

I came to a stop only steps before what appeared to be a solid edge of darkness. My heart had gone from dead still to pounding furiously. The feeling of electricity was so much stronger here; it seemed to dominate everything else. Swallowing thickly, I covered the end of the flashlight with my hand. It took me several moments-that-seemed-like-hours to work up the courage to flick the switch on. I flinched when the light poured out from the cracks between my fingers and around my palm. It didn't even touch the shadows. I took a deep breath, and then flipped the light up, allowing the beam to pierce the darkness—if it could.

I almost screamed.

"Hello, Dawnie." There, grinning at me from the little halo of light was one face I knew all to well. From my nightmares. Golden eyes and dark hair stood in stark contrast with skin that seemed _too_ pale. His brow was ugly and wrinkled, and when his grin widened I thought I could see little fangs protruding from under his lips. He took a single step towards me and I didn't think, I just reacted.

I ran.

I knew it was a stupid thing to do, turning my back on the enemy. And a dangerous enemy at that. But I ran, because there wasn't anything else I _could_ do. I didn't think that I could touch him, not even with the silver knife. I didn't think my heart could take trying.

So I ran. And I ran. I missed the turn onto my street, but I didn't care. I just continued to run, solely concentrated on evading the terrifying figment of my imagination. I could hear his feet pounding on the street behind me, and I would have run until sunrise, if I had to. When I ran into a warm body, I _did_ scream.

"Hey! Hey… Calm down. It's alright." I thought I recognized the voice, but I just couldn't seem to register it. So, when I felt arms close around me I could do nothing but struggle. My thrashing swept my hair back from my face, and I heard a growled curse. "Elizabeth? Elizabeth, it's all right. You're safe. It's me, Gabriel. I've got you. You're safe. You know me. You're safe."

He was holding me close, forcing my stillness as he stroked his hand down my hair and back. I'd finally recognized him, and all I could think about was getting him _away_ from the monster that was chasing me.

"No! No, not all right. It's not all right. It's never all right. Please. Please. Run. I've gotta run. We've gotta run. Please. We've got to get away." I was almost crying now, struggling to get away from him. Struggling to pull him along with me. But he was too strong, and I couldn't move. He only pulled me closer, and restrained my flailing arms. He started to rock slightly, and I knew he was trying to comfort me, but the terror was too strong. It was blinding.

"Dawnie…" The voice drifted from around the corner, eerie in its sweetness. "Dawnie Dawn Watch… Where's the little Dawnie? The Little Bit?"

I felt Gabriel tense against me, even as my struggling gained momentum. "He's here. Oh Gods, he's here."

"Daaaaawniiiiie…."

I grew completely slack within the circle of Gabriel's arms, and I felt him shift to accommodate for the sudden dead weight. He was there, and I knew I wouldn't be able to escape. I couldn't leave Gabriel to face him alone. "He's here. Oh Gods, Gabriel, he's here. I don't want to see him. Not again."

"Shhh… Elizabeth, I need you to listen to me very carefully." He shifted me, and forced me to look at him with a finger under my chin. "Who is he? What does he want?"

A moan welled up from the deepest corners of my being, spilling over my lips. "I don't know…. I just see him in my dreams sometimes. In my nightmares. He frightens me."

"Your nightmares? What—"

"Dawnie." The voice was so close now, and my head whipped up. He was just at the end of the road. _Too_ close. It took Gabriel less than a second to react, pushing me behind him. "You're being a bad girl, Dawnie. Only bad girls run. So naughty…"

He took a step towards us, and Gabriel flicked a silver dagger into his hand. "I won't let you touch her."

He took a step back, his hands up. He was smirking. Then his smile widened again, and his fangs peaked out from under his lips. I tensed against Gabriel's back, and wondered just what the fangs would mean to him. If he would even notice.

Obviously Gabriel did notice, because he stiffened. I thought I heard him snarl; had he run into someone like _him_ before? "Who the _hell_ are you? What are you doing here?"

The beast—vampire?—ignored him. He just stared at me with that demented smile still twisting his lips.

"Don't worry, naughty Dawnie. I won't hurt you this time. Sin just wants me to give you a message. _She_ says that things are starting now… and that they'll soon gain momentum. She wants you to be careful, Little Sister… Little Dawn Watch. She wants you alive until she can kill you. So be careful of your friends, Little Bit. You never know when you'll meet a Judas."

I saw him start to fade away, as if the shadows were beginning to absorb his very existence, and knew almost instantly that this might be my only chance to get any answers from him. Gathering every ounce of my courage, I decided to ask the one question that had bothered me from almost the very beginning. The one question that my nightmares had never been able to answer.

"Who are you?"

My voice was so quiet, so tremulous, that I wasn't sure if he would even hear me. I couldn't work up the courage to speak any louder.

Obviously he did hear me, because he somehow managed to completely solidify again, instantaneously. He continued to smile at me, but instead of the old, mocking, parody of a smile he had been sporting earlier, it had become decidedly dangerous.

"Think of Angel..." I felt something in my mind twitch, one of the not-memories, and I gasped. The name meant something to me, though I wasn't sure what. I only paled when he spoke again. "Then remember Angelus."

He smiled for a moment more, and then he was gone.

I collapsed, and sat bonelessly at Gabriel's heels. He whirled around then, and pulled me to my feet. His grip on my arms was almost painful, but that didn't matter; I could hear the name Angelus ringing in my head, over and over, like some kind of strange alarm bell. I thought I might have been hyperventilating at that point, but I wasn't sure, and I didn't care. All that mattered was my internal struggle to remember; who was Angelus, and why did he matter? What was his worth? There was something about the name, about the way in which the beast had _said_ it, that seemed… Angelus was important. The only real question was _how_.

It seemed endless, that time I spent digging through every single memory, and not-memory. Several more of those moments-that-seemed-like-hours passed. Everything in me was just screaming that I couldn't afford to leave a single metaphysical stone unturned. Angelus. Angelus… Who was he? And who was he to _me_?

The chorus in my mind was reaching a crescendo, but the voices were no longer just mine. It was 'Angelus,' over and over and over again, whispered by a man, screamed by a girl, said by a woman, muttered by a boy. It was over and over and over, then over again: different people, and in different combinations, but each utterance strangely the same. I remembered each voice from one of my dreams, or one of my nightmares. And they all carried helpless hatred, and fear. That was a bad combination if ever I knew one.

But then Gabriel was shaking me, and I realized he must have been talking, asking me questions, and I hadn't responded. Or maybe I had just said 'Angelus,' over and over, like the voices in my head. Maybe I was going crazy. Regardless, I somehow managed to focus on him, the fingers I could finally feel digging into my skin grounding me just as much as the hands that I moved to weakly fist in the front of his sweater. I couldn't help but be disoriented. To be frank, this was all getting to be too much for me.

"What?"

Gabriel sighed—I wasn't sure if it was in relief or exasperation—but his hold on me softened. Instead of shaking me he switched to rubbing his hands up and down my arms again, as if finally realizing that I might be going into shock. I probably was. Or at least, really close to it. I just needed this night to end.

"Who was he? Who is _Angelus?_" He stooped slightly, to look me straight in the eye. "How do you know him? Do you realize what he is, how dangerous he can be?"

I just stared at him blankly.

He shook me again, once, probably hoping to jog some sense back into me. "_Listen to me! _That _thing_ is dangerous! You _have to_ tell me where you met him."

I couldn't take it any more, the pressure of what had just happened, and then Gabriel's reaction to it. I started crying.

Gabriel cursed again, then swung me up into his arms. I stiffened, but relaxed quickly; I kind of liked the feeling of being carried. It was comforting. "I'm taking you home. We can talk about this in the morning."

I just curled up against him, letting my tears soak trough his sweater. I stopped thinking for the moment. I let myself drift. Because of that, I only completely realized what he had said when we came to a stop at my front door and he reached out to ring the doorbell.

In a panic, I tried to squirm out of his arms, making him tighten his hold on me. Coincidentally, that meat he couldn't reach the doorbell. "No! _Stop!_ I don't want to go home. Please don't ring the bell. _Please!_"

Shocked, he took a few steps back from the door. He still hadn't relinquished his hold on me. "What? Why not?" I just looked away, my mouth stubbornly closed. "Then where? I'm not leaving you out here."

"Just take me back with you to Anna's." I looked back at him, but he was frowning. I quickly looked away again, my chest tight. "I go to her sometimes, if the nightmares get really bad. She insists on it."

He just looked at me, his expression carefully neutral, then nodded slowly. I knew his mind was probably working overtime, struggling to fit the newest pieces into the puzzle he was trying to make of me. And I knew that I had most definitely had given him more pieces to work with. His scrutiny was making me even more uncomfortable, so I closed my eyes and hid my face in the softness of his sweater.

Then we were moving, and I still didn't look up when I felt him jostle me slightly. Probably getting his keys out of his pocket, or something. Then I heard the click of a lock and suddenly I wasn't quite so cold anymore. I hadn't actually noticed how cold I had been, before that point.

"Gabriel? Gabriel, what are you—Is that Elizabeth?" I just pressed closer to my carrier, trying to melt into him, when I heard Anna's voice. When a warm hand brushed my fringe back from my forehead I flinched. "What happened?"

I felt, more than heard, Gabriel's sigh, then the feeling of movement again. "I don't know. She was running from something when I found her. We confronted it. It left. Did you know that she's mixed up in—well—?"

Then I was being set down on the sofa. I only resisted slightly when Gabriel tried to untangle my fingers from his sweater. I whimpered, scooting closer to him. I didn't want to loose the feeling of his closeness; for some reason his aura seemed to calm me down, make me feel safe. I didn't want to give that up. Not right now.

I hated how weak I was being, so I made an effort to be otherwise. With a supreme force of will I uncurled my fingers—they were cramped, and it took longer than it should have. They immediately fisted again, tight against my knees. It hurt, but it was a welcome distraction so I only fisted them tighter, reveling in the bite of my nails in my palm. When I felt Anna's gentle touch on my hands I let her smooth them flat.

"It's alright, Gabriel. I think she knows."

I slowly looked up when I felt him stiffen even further against my side. I hadn't actually moved away from him. But life's all about compromising, right? I thought for a moment, trying to decide if I _wanted_ to know what they were talking about. But then I must have thought for too long, or not long enough, because I started speaking. I could feel my mouth moving, hear the words spilling like water, but it was all so far away, as if it were happening to someone else. Maybe on the other side of time.

"Knows what? What is it that I know, that you know too? That you don't think I _should_ know. What do I know other than the fact that _everything _is completely screwed up, now? That weird _shit_ has been happening, for as long as I can remember, and that my parents _hate _it, and now it's just gotten _worse_."

I absently realized that I must have sounded hysterical, because I could feel Gabriel tightening his hold on me, and Anna run a soothing hand through my hair.

"Shhhh… it's alright, Elizabeth. I'm not accusing you of anything. You know you can trust me." She sighed tiredly, but did not stop her stroking. "Gabriel. I know you probably still have questions, but I think they're going to have to wait. I _really_ think that we need to get her to bed now."

I could almost feel the air shift with his curt nod. I was that close. Then I stopped paying attention as he gathered me even closer and stood. I barely noticed as he carefully made his way up the stairs and only stirred slightly when he gently placed me on the bed. He was silent as he unlaced me sneakers, pulling them off. Once he'd had me safely ensconced in the bed he just stood and stared at me for a few long moments—probably waiting for me to say something, or wanting to say something himself, I don't know.

When he turned to leave I reached out, caught his hand. He arched an eyebrow—again, he was doing that a lot, wasn't he?—but I wouldn't be rushed. Instead, I put his hand to my cheek and savored the feeling of safety for a few minutes before speaking.

"Sometimes I see things when I close my eyes. Things I don't like. Sometimes… I'm afraid to blink."

Gabriel only looked away, and that was the last thing I said that night.


End file.
